Hard to believe it's November again and that Thanksgiving is just around the corner.

Then Christmas. Then another year, another Thanksgiving and on it goes and before you know it you're on the wrong side of 40, just like that. Or who knows, maybe the other side is the right side? …If you've been there let me know.

I had such a good dream last night. I was in Sweden and ran into Michelle and Helen at a mountain ski resort which I think was also doubling as a small airport (in my dream this somehow made sense). All three of us were in transit en route to somewhere, Helen to Cape Town, Michelle I think to SE Asia and me to Africa. We were having fondue and tea with brandy in it (again this made more sense in my dream) (it was real cold and dark) and soon there was an announcement that my plane was boarding. At my gate was Geoff, waiting for me and asking if I had his ticket and I was thinking to myself oh my god I never ever want to wake up from this dream. At which point of course I realized it was a dream and woke up.

I loathe waking up from dreams that have Geoff in them. It's like losing him all over again.

Gloomy way to start the day… but it is the Day of the Dead today after all.

When I was little, we always spent Nov 1 (Day of the Dead) going to the cemetery… autumn leaves and candles everywhere. We brought flowers to my mom's sister's grave every year, cleaned the leaves off her tomb and stood there silently while the candles burned down. She died two weeks before I was born and there is an old photo of my mom somewhere, 8 1/2 months pregnant at her sister's funeral. Years later, my mom would tell me that her sister was only 19 when the love of her life was killed in a crash… she followed him the next day and asked to be buried in his grave. That story used to give me the chills when I was a kid. Her name was Agnes.

Haven't been on the blog in months, so sorry about all the unanswered email. So deeply thankful for your care & attention it's just that I have so little to say these days. Or I just don't know how to say it.

Where have I been... I guess I've been lost, disconnected from life... "drained"... damaged? dislocated? -- can't find the right word... working through the roller coaster of what I am told is the healing process.

My washing machine broke so I am sitting here at the laundromat typing this (typo alert). This laundromat appears to be attracting a clientele whose glares are somewhat evocative of those composite sketches you sometimes see on your local post office's notice board. You know, the ones with the words "WANTED" and "REWARD" written all over them?

(I am toying with the idea of skipping the drying cycle all together and getting out of here at what can only be defined as lightning speed... )

Otherwise, not much else to blog about. I catch myself fantasizing about Geoff all the time. He walks in the door, with groceries in his hands, like nothing happened. In these fantasies I wake up and realize his death was just a bad dream.

But I guess it's final. I guess this nightmare is the rest of my life and I guess parts of me died too.

...thanks for asking. Sorting through things, going through the motions of life and sweating my misery off in that brutal yoga class.

I guess I am trying to find my new place in the world, whatever that means. I haven't watched TV / read a paper / book since October... -ish. So tell me, what's new in the world, am I missing out on anything?

I know Natalie Portman is pregnant and won a Golden Globe and that there was a tragic shooting in Arizona.

Oh. I'll tell you what else is new. After 2 years of blog & email correspondence, I met Jane! It was not a pre-arranged meeting, it was the handiwork of the universe. A meant-to-be. My favorite thing Jane said was:

"Agnes. You have an accent."

I really like Jane. She has this glow about her. I will ask her if I can post a photo of us... and I want to introduce her to my friend Lucky.

Went to a yoga class last night. You know the type of yoga you do in a sauna-esque setting, I think it's called a "hot room"? For a merciless hour and a half? Some participants were wearing wrist and ankle weights which I think I am gonna try next time. Maybe it will help with the insomnia. Maybe it will de-Frankenstein my appearance. Maybe it will help me recognize the stranger in my mirror?

The mirror, a few months ago:

Now:

It's like reverse plastic surgery I guess.

After class, some smoker stopped me on my way to my car, and asked how I liked the class. "It was hard work," I said, "but I think I'll be able to sleep tonight." "Are you single?" he asked. "No, I am married." "Where is your husband?" "He doesn't exist." "You have an imaginary husband?" "No he is real, he just doesn't exist." "That's impossible." "I know. That is why I cannot sleep."